Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Last 24 Hours of Severus Snape	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 17390 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

Chapter List
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A/N: This chapter has a particularly involved description of the electrocution process so if you're not fond of unpleasant things, best skip that bit.

Watching him stare at the bed did little to quell her nerves. There were only so many things one could do in a bed aside from sleep and she was certain she knew exactly what he planned on doing. She exhaled slowly. It wasn’t that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind; in fact she had been prepared to give it to him straight away had he asked. But after the terribly awkward assessment of her body in the bathtub; so much time spent naked, the tender compliments, the gentle caresses, it seemed so much more in that moment. To know that it would be his last fuck that she would be his last lay; there was something beyond unsettling about it. It was like the ultimate test, one she knew she was going to fail and Hermione knew she simply wouldn’t be able to live with herself is she failed.

            What if she was total rubbish? While not a complete virgin her sexual explorations had been mild, few and far between with the most recent one being well over two years prior. She supposed it wasn’t all that hard to lay back and simply be plowed into, but what if he wanted more? What if he wanted a blowjob? She had given one once, to Charlie Weasley once on a dare. She’d been tipsy and he had been sloshed beyond comparison. And she wasn’t particularly practiced with her hands. It made her stomach turn in tight knots just thinking over it. What if his last memory of sexual relations; his last fleeting feeling of carnal pleasure was awful because of her inexperience?

            His hand waving in front of her eyes startled her so much so that she jumped backward a bit, losing the grip on her towel. It fell to the floor around her feet and she cursed softly, bending quickly to pick it up and wrap it back around her body. “Sorry,” she said gazing at him with a wary apology in her eyes.

            “What had you so deep in thought that you did not hear me call you?” he asked quizzically.

            “Oh,” she said and turned her eyes away from him. “Nothing, well, tomorrow…” she sighed. “Just, thinking about the procedure,” she muttered.

            “It’s an execution, Hermione, not surgery, I don’t imagine there’ll be much to it,” he said.

            “Right.”

            Severus quirked an eyebrow upon his forehead and then let his lips soften into a smile. “Me thinks the lady doth lie…” he stepped toward her and curled two fingers under her chin gazing into her eyes. “Not at all what you were thinking about was it?”

            Her face reddened as she was forced to return his gaze. “No, I’m afraid not.”

            “Hmm,” he mused softly and then gently released her chin. “Indeed.” Severus stepped back from her and moved over toward the bed, carefully perching on its edge, his long slender legs dangling from it. He looked rather out of place, wrapped in two white fluffy towels with one around his head the other around his waist, the mattress depressing unevenly with his weight. “Do you think you would be able to get an emulsion cream?” he asked.

            Hermione was thrown by the question. But after she thought it over she nodded. “I have one in my robes, actually, I thought you might have wanted for your lips earlier, but I forgot to offer it to you,” she admitted a bit sheepishly.

            Severus nodded. “They are starting to sting a bit,” he said tracing his tongue around his lower lip, the chapped peeling bits starting to crack slightly with the tiniest trickle of blood in their midst. “Please,” he said and then slowly leaned his body back onto the bed.

            Hermione disappeared into the bathroom returning a moment later with the little vial. “Should clear it right up, and you can have this as well for after,” she said, causing him to sit up as she handed him the vial and a tiny plastic tube. “It’s chapstick, will help keep them feeling moist after the cream heals them,” she said. “I’m going to pop out for a moment,” she said to him cautiously, wondering if he would protest. “I need to get the literature about the…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “They said they were coming to prepare you and I just want to be prepared for that,” she struggled to make the words sound right. “There are clothes in that chest there,” she nodded. “If you like. And I won’t be gone long.”

            Severus waved her off with a silent yet dismissive swish of his hand. She skittered from the room and ducked quickly back into the bathroom, slipping into her clothes. Once she was dressed Hermione moved back into the main foyer and tapped her wand against the door. She was again immediately sucked out by forces that outweighed her own, landing ass over teakettle with the guards pointing their wands at her.

            Rolling her eyes she stood up and patted down her robes. “I’ve need of two things,” she said. “The first being information, literature, what have you, on the process for the Electric Chair method of execution. I am not familiar with it despite my muggle up-bringing as I’ve never heard of it being used in muggle society, at least not in Great Britain, I’m pretty positive they don’t even have Capital Punishment anymore but that’s beside the point,” she said and then crossed her arms over her chest. “Anything you can get for me about it, how it works, what’s done to prepare the victim, anything.”

            “Alright,” the smaller of the two guards nodded and then parted company to go and retrieve what she had requested.

            “And the second thing?” the remaining guard asked.

            “I do not wish to have to continue to come out here every time I— every time he requests something that is not readily supplied. I imagine he’ll request a meal or two sometime between now and twenty-four hours from now, as well as other things with which to occupy his time. I was given explicit permissions to provide him with whatever he wished, and while I am talented witch my magic I can only do so much. I do not wish to tumble through that door at wandpoint every time he makes a request.”

            “Ah,” said the guard. “The Minister did think of that, but he did say not to notify you until you requested it.” Hermione narrowed her eyes at the guard. She was beginning to like Kingsley Shacklebolt less and less the more she heard. “He says, whatever it is that is being requested, so long as it fits within the constraints of your deal to not free the prisoner, all you need to do is tap your wand on the left wall inside the foyer there, and speak the name of what you need. It may take a few minutes but it should be able to provide you with just about anything.”

            Hermione nodded curtly. At this point the other guard had rounded the opposite end of the corridor, on his way back with a single piece of paper. “That’s it?” she asked.

            “’Fraid so, Miss Granger. It’s all the Minister had on file, but it gives a detailed explanation of how the prisoner is prepped, how the chair itself works to bring about death and what happens in the event that the first electrocution doesn’t kill him all the way.”

            Hermione snatched the parchment from his hand with a fierce scowl upon her lips and was thoroughly prepared to hex him. But she thought better of it and then stomped back into the room, pausing a moment to compose herself and squash her anger before moving back into the room where Severus was waiting.

            “You’ve returned I see,” he said, sitting up on the bed. The towel around his waist remained but he had unwrapped his hair, the damp locks now hanging down past his shoulders. “I did look at the clothes in the chest, but they are very…I’m not even sure there is a word for it,” he said and nodded to the chest.

            Hermione moved over, placing the parchment into her robe pocket and then opened the chest. Frowning she shook her head. “This won’t do at all,” she muttered pulling from within the chest a single gray prisoner’s jumpsuit. She sighed. “I’m not letting you wear this,” she said and then tossed it back into the chest. “I can get you something else, what would make you most comfortable?”

            “I would be most comfortable naked, Hermione,” he said. “But I won’t remain so for two reasons.” When she did not interject he continued. “The first being that I think it would make you rather uncomfortable if I were to remain so, and the second being that it is rather cold in here.”

            “I can fix that,” she said, walking over to the fireplace. With a swish of her wand a blazing fire leaped to life in the hearth. With a secondary wave of her wand she increased the temperature of the room to comfortably cozy. “And it’s irrelevant as to whether or not I’m comfortable, it’s about what you want not what I want, Severus.”

            He chuckled, his eyes closed as he leaned back on the bed once more. “And if I say what I want is for my only company to be comfortable so that I can continue to enjoy it?”

            Hermione bit her lower lip. If that was how he felt what else would he deny himself for her comfort for fear that she would refuse to continue providing him with company. She felt a little guilty for having returned to the room so fully clothed. Though she had already made up her mind that she would not be addressing the guards in a towel. Shrugging out of her robe she let it fall to the floor before she moved over to the bed and sat beside him, slowly laying her back down so that she was lying next to him, both of their legs dangling off the edge.

            “I said that I would give you whatever you wanted,” she said. “And if that means staying here with you and being your company until…well, until,” she said softly, turning her head to the side to face him. “Then I will…regardless of how comfortable or uncomfortable you may think you are or aren’t making me.”

            Severus turned his head to the side to gaze at her, their noses nearly touching. “You are indeed a very strange woman, Hermione Granger.”

            “Why am I strange?”

            “You’ve no devotion to me, don’t owe me anything as far as I know…in fact you of all people should have more reasons to be refusing me things on general principal than any person I know, and yet here you are,” he whispered letting his eyes drink in every soft feature of her face.

            “Why do you think that? That I should be refusing you things.”

            “I was never particularly nice to you, in fact knowing that I’m about to die I can admit that I was particularly and intentionally cruel to you. Mocking you to humble you, ignoring you to make you push yourself in class, I never missed an opportunity if it presented itself.”

            “I knew it,” she rolled her eyes and then let out a long sigh. “Be that as it may, Severus, I’m here now. As you said before— whatever my personal reasons— which if you wish to know, and ask me so, I may need some time to think on how to phrase them but I’d gladly tell you just the same.”

            Severus shook his head slowly. “Whatever your reasons they are your own. And I do not wish to know them, the fact that you are here should suffice.”

            Hermione frowned. “Really?”

            He kept his eyes unblinking as he spoke. “My mind is not simple, Hermione, I know whatever your reasons they are far from the ones I have concocted in my head to make up for that gap of missing knowledge. However, if you don’t tell me your reasons, I can continue wallowing in blissful ignorance for the next twenty-four hours, letting my mind trick me into thinking you are here for reasons that please me to think them.”

            She closed her eyes. That was indeed deeply profound. Nodding she opened her eyes. “Alright,” she said and then drew her hand up to touch his cheek. “Would you like to stay naked? I can take your towel if you want.”

            Severus slowly sat up, resting his hands in his lap. “I think not,” he said. “After careful consideration, if you don’t mind, I would like something to wear, other than whatever that thing was in the chest.”

            “Of course,” she said sitting up. Hermione moved back out into the foyer and drew her wand to tap it. “Severus— what should I get for you?”

            “A t-shirt I suppose, and trousers,” he called to her from the bed.

            She tapped her wand against the wall, feeling it being sucked slowly forward into a force field of magic. “A white soft cotton t-shirt and a pair of—” she paused a moment. “Severus, have you ever worn jeans?” Before she could hear his response a white cotton t-shirt and a pair of faded and worn looking pair of blue denim jeans were rushing at her from the wall. “Oh!” she cried, catching them. Hermione moved back into the room, shutting the door that led into the foyer behind her. “Here,” she said.

            “No, I have not,” he said taking them from her, turning them over in his hands. “Though…” he trailed off for a moment and then shrugged. “Now or never and I suppose it’s now…one more thing to tick off my menial bucket list, though this one was inadvertently added.”

            Hermione sat on the edge of the bed beside him. “They’re really comfortable, oh!” she smacked her palm to her forehead. “I should have gotten you boxer shorts or— you do wear boxer shorts don’t you?”

            Severus stood up and took a step away from the bed, letting his towel fall to the floor. This presented Hermione with a rather sudden but delicious view of his hind quarters. Firm sculpted cheeks with taut defined thigh muscles despite their current state of thinness, and not a blemish on him. There wasn’t even so much as a hair. She couldn’t help herself as she felt her tongue trace her lips and then she quickly looked away, watching him step into the jeans, catching the briefest glimpse of the back of his balls.

            “No need,” he said and pulled the jeans up fastening them around his waist. It was a near perfect fit. “This will do fine,” he said and then shrugged into the white t-shirt. It was worn, feeling the way cotton felt after it had been ran through the laundry with way too much fabric softener one too many times. “And you are right this is comfortable.”

            She smiled at him but then shook her head noting how he gazed at her. “What’s the matter?”

            “You look formal,” he said.

            “Oh,” Hermione glanced down realizing that since having redressed she was now wearing what she had worn to work the day before, never having left the Ministry after storming to Azkaban. “Erm, well let me transfigure it,” she said and stood up, drawing her wand once more. With two simple spells her ruffled green blouse shifted shape until she’d managed a simple green tank top. Her formal black trousers quickly became loose black yoga pants, cuffed midway up her calves. “Is that better?” she asked.

            “Much,” he said and then moved over to stand in front of her. Two hands shoved against her shoulders and although it wasn’t hard or even done with very much energy she had been so surprised by the motion that she pitched backward onto the bed.

            “Oh!” she cried.

            Severus chuckled. “That was rather amusing,” he said noting how her body had bounced slightly when she’d toppled backward. “The mattress appears to have more give to it than a normal mattress,” he said.

            Hermione gazed up at him disbelieving. Did he really just push her back onto the bed? She closed her eyes. Typically when a man pushed a woman backward onto a bed they were naked or about to get naked and he then followed suit by climbing onto the bed atop her. This did not seem to be the case. Opening her eyes she gazed up at him. “No more so than usual, I don’t think but I suppose one does tend to bounce a good bit when suddenly and unexpectedly toppled backward,” she said slowly sitting up.

            “Indeed,” he said and then quirked his lips to the side. Severus gazed up at the ceiling to the room, a good deal higher than a room of its size would have lead on. “Stand up,” he said.

            Hermione hesitated. “Are you going to push me backward again?” she asked.

            “Yes,” he said. “I rather enjoyed watching you bounce about, it looked fun,” he admitted.

            Tilting her head slightly to the side Hermione allowed herself a tiny smile. “I take it you did not do much bouncing on the bed as a child?” Silence met her question though she’d surmised the answer before she’d asked it. “No time like the present, right?” she said and tried not to think of how tragic it was— not only that such simple joys of childhood been deprived of him but he was only getting to do them now because he knew that in twenty-four hours time he would be dead. “Give me your hand,” she said and then scrambled up onto the bed, wobbling off balance for a brief moment before standing erect.

            Severus gazed up at her, watching her climb onto her feet before slowly extending his hand to her. He stepped up onto the bed as she pulled him onto the mattress. He wobbled as she had trying to gain his footing. He stood stone still for a moment, his chest just inches from hers. “Now what?” he asked.

            Hermione giggled and then rolled her eyes. “Goodness,” she said and then took both of his hands, gripping them firmly in her own. “Jump a little,” she said rising up onto the balls of her feet and sinking back down into the mattress. The springs gave a mighty wiggle beneath her as she did and she bounced just slightly. “See?”

            Severus mimicked her gesture and would have fallen over had he not been holding her hands. She smiled at him and then let go of his hands. Stepping back from him she jumped just a tiny bit up off the mattress, up and down little bounces with a giggle. And she was surprised but pleased to see him studying her as if it were an art form to be perfected. Hermione grinned when she watched him, hesitant at first, lift his feet and then bounce as she was moving.

            The bed seemed to roil beneath them, the mattress sinking low and with a quick spell Hermione reinforced the springs and the box spring beneath the bed so that in the event their bouncing became too great of a strain it would not give way and collapse. She tossed her head about as she bounced her hair flying around her face as she did. This amused him and she smiled, hearing his rich voice laughing. Who would have ever thought that something as simple as bouncing on a mattress would have been the key to hearing Severus Snape laugh.

            It was a sound that she found was rather pleasant; his rich silky voice returned to him the more he had used it and hearing it slip over his lips like liquid velvet penetrating her ears made her tingle inside. But in that moment she had to dismiss such feelings because it felt wrong to think on them. And it made her think of what might happen if he decided he wanted to use the bed for something other than bouncing. So she bowed her head and then spun around, flopping down hard onto her stomach, giggling a fair bit as she did.

            She had not expected him to do the same, shaking the mattress slightly as he landed beside her. “Well that was amusing,” she said with a soft grin as she turned her head to the side gazing at him. But her smile faded when he just remained staring at her. It wasn’t a hard stare or even an inquisitive one; but just a look as if his eyes were trying to commit to memory every detail of her face, every angle and curve that was etched their by god. And she found it just the slightest bit unnerving, not because he was doing so but because hers might truly be the last face he ever looked upon.

            Hermione held his gaze, and although she was completely clothed as was he, she felt in that moment somehow more vulnerable than she did when he had held her breast naked in the tub. His gaze was unwavering; intense in its lack of emotion that radiated from his eyes. Perhaps she wouldn’t have felt so strange if he had been glaring at her in frustration or anger or even looking upon her with a lecherous eye. But this silent blank stare made her uneasy at best.

            When he pulled himself up onto his knees she held her breath, but released it almost immediately as he climbed back up onto his feet and began to bounce once more. The moment, whatever it had or hadn’t been, had passed and for that she was grateful. She stood back up, bouncing with him, noticing the way his hair bounced slightly up and down on his shoulders with every landing against the mattress he made with his feet. She needed to distract herself with other thoughts.

            “You know I don’t think I’ve bounced on a bed since I was about seven or maybe eight years old,” she confessed. Such a fun and simple thing to do, and yet it was so highly frowned upon once you grew into the age of ‘knowing better.’ She found that in her momentary reflection she did not at all care for the period in one’s life of ‘old enough to know better.’

            “Hand me that pillow,” he said gesturing behind her.

            Hermione jumped up and spun around landing facing the pillow, smiling silently to herself at how impressive that little move was. She picked up the pillow and took another bounce to face him once more. Handing him the pillow she resumed bouncing as he was. “What did you want the pill—”

            Suddenly she was toppling backward, the knock with the pillow, though it hadn’t even been that hard, taking her by such surprise that she completely lost her balance and pitched over. “Oh!” she cried and then scrambled around behind her grabbing a secondary pillow. “If you’re going to initiate a pillow fight at least make sure your opponent is properly equipped!” she shouted and slammed the pillow a good deal harder than he had against his shins. A good whirlwind of tiny down feathers erupted when she struck him with her pillow.

            Severus slapped his pillow down atop her head and she shrieked. All the while he continued to bounce. Hermione was uneasy once more getting to her feet, his bouncing really making the mattress unstable. And then she heard him laughing again. That delicious sound caught her unawares for a third time and he had landed another heavy blow against her mid-section causing her to nearly fall over again. She hunched forward to keep herself upright and charged at him across the mattress with the pillow as a battering ram.

            Feathers flew everywhere as she crashed into him, but his arms swept up around her and they both fell down, she atop him, him crashing down onto the mattress. She could feel herself panting and he was panting as well as she lay atop him for a moment just watching the feathers settle all around. As they settled she began to move off him only to be stilled by his hands, keeping her atop his body, her chest pressing down on his.

            Hermione couldn’t help herself, she turned her head to the side as she blushed only to have her head tugged gently back to face him by two of his fingers under her chin. “You keep doing that,” he said.

            “I guess I’m not…” she trailed off and shrugged. “Aren’t I crushing you?” she asked hesitantly.

            Severus closed his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t feel very heavy at all,” he whispered just relaxing beneath her body for a moment. “You feel…” he did not open his eyes as he spoke, his voice a subtle whisper. “For lack of better word…nice, Hermione. You feel nice.”

            That was certainly not what she had been expecting. She gazed down at him, moving her hand to brush strands of his hair away from his face. That was when he opened his eyes. She smiled down at him, just trying to relax atop him; it was not the most conventional of positions and it made her whole body tense with nerves, though that was the last thing she wanted to portray to him. “What’s on your mind?” she asked after a moment of his intensely penetrating gaze glimpsing up into her eyes.

            “Thinking,” he said.

            “Mm,” she nodded her head slowly, feeling a shiver run up her spine. Was he thinking about how to proposition her? It made her body flood with an unnatural heat. “What about?” she asked.

            “Did you get your information?” he asked softly, eyes and face never changing expression. “About my— what did you call it— procedure?”

            Hermione closed her eyes and then slowly nodded. “Yes, it’s in my robes,” she said. It was then she felt his hand slide off her back, she hadn’t even known that he had held his hand still on her back. “I can get it if you’d like,” she offered.

            “Please,” he said and then laid both arms on his side, resting easy into the mattress.

            Hermione noted as she carefully slid down from his body that he remained on his back but shifted up toward the top of the bed, leaving a large plain of space in his wake. She moved over to her robes, took the piece of paper out of her pocket and then returned to the bed. “Here,” she said but paused when he shook his head.

            “I’d like you to read it, I don’t know that my eyes can take the strain at the moment, and while I’ve no desire to sleep, that little endeavor— fun as it was— has left me needing a moment to regain my strength,” he admitted.

            “Right,” she said and turned the paper over to the right side, gazing at the three blocks of text on the page. “The first section talks about preparing you for the chair.”

            “Will you lay here with me while you read?” he asked.

            “Of course,” she said and climbed onto the bed.

            “On your back…so that I can rest my head here,” he said and touched her shoulder. It took her a moment to situate herself so that she was lying on her back with her head just beside his, and then she lifted her head onto his collarbone as he did his head onto hers. It was indeed an intimate position while still allowing her to hold the parchment before her face with her free hand. “Thank you,” he whispered, letting his head rest against her.

            “Anything you wish,” she responded softly and then drew in a slow breath. “Preparing you for the chair,” she said. She knew it was not going to pleasant, she hadn’t been given a chance to read through it before hand but imagined that nothing that involved preparing one’s body for death would be good.”

            “Indeed,” he said and then nodded for her to continue.

            “The prisoner must be prepared before execution in the electric chair,” she said, already feeling her voice quaver. She drew in another deep breath. “The prisoner must have their head freshly shaven just moments before the execution is to take place. This process involves removal of all parts of the hair down to a freshly smoothed scalp,” she paused already feeling the tears stinging at the back of her eyes. “The prisoner must then have the calf of their right leg shorn in a similar fashion. This is followed by the placement of heavy cotton filament inside the anal cavity via means of insertion through the anus to prevent rectal seepage during the execution.”

            Severus, who had closed his eyes, parted his lips and sighed. “Is that all?”

            “For the preparation, yes, the next section is about the actual process— should I stop?”

            “No,” he whispered.

            Clearing her throat and blinking back her tears she read on. “The prisoner is escorted into the electrocution chamber and seated in the chair. The prisoner’s wrists and ankles are then strapped to the chair in cases of extreme rebuke, but otherwise the prisoner remains unbound. One electrode is placed on either side of the freshly shaven head, the other is attached through a slit in the prisoner’s pants leg to the freshly shaven skin of the calf, completing the circuit through which the electricity will enter the body, allowing the prisoner’s body to act like a conduit.” She paused for a moment and then slowly continued. “A bag is placed over the head of the prisoner so that in the event the face burns or melts or the eyeballs become dislodged from their sockets those watching are not subject to a grotesque display.” She shuddered.

            Hermione continued after a brief pause once more. “The executioner asks the prisoner for his final words or statement, before placing the bag over his head and once the prisoner has spoken his peace the bag the executioner flips the switch.”

            “What happens then?” he asked.

            It was sick; she wasn’t sure that she could bare to read anymore. But she swallowed the lump in her throat and continued. “The current enters the body through the electrode in the head, seeking to complete its circuit by reaching the electrode attached to the calf, causing breath death, heart failure and fatal organ damage by raising the body temperature to at least 140 degrees,” Hermione had to stop herself, biting her lower lip hard to keep from sobbing. “The first wave of the current administers 1,500 to 2,300 volts for approximately eight seconds, then a lower current of only 300 to 1,000 volts is applied for 20 seconds and then another 1,500 to 2,300 volts for a final eight seconds.”

            She paused this time just trying not to cry. There was only another line of text but she didn’t think she could bring herself to read it. But fearing that he would ask what next, and hearing such a question would truly send her into hysterics she drew in a shaky breath and read the final line of the paper. “A medical professional then checks the prisoner’s heartbeat after the current has been switched off. If the prisoner is declared dead his body is removed for disposal. If the prisoner is still alive the process is repeated until the heart is no longer beating.”

            Hermione let the paper fall away to the floor. She hadn’t considered the fact that the excruciating and extremely cruel process might not kill him on the first go round; not to mention the grotesque mutilation that could occur to his face in the process. She laid there in silence for several minutes, her head on his chest his on hers, just listening to the sound of his breaths drawn slowly in and out.

            After several long minutes she slowly lifted her head. “Severus?” she asked, leaning over to gaze down at him. His eyes were wet though he had not shed any tears and they looked hollow. In their ebony depths she could see it, the thing she dreaded seeing the most; fear in his eyes. “Oh, Severus,” she said and then cupped his cheek.

            He pushed her hand roughly away. “I need to do something, Hermione, I need to feel something,” he growled sitting up suddenly clutching her chin in his hand. “I need to feel alive while I still can.”

Thank you for reading, please feel free to leave your comments and feedback, I am eager and anxious to know what you think.
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The Last 24 Hours of Severus Snape